Turn to Dust
by Wild Force Ranger
Summary: Trapped under those beams on the White House lawn, Charles makes a decision that will change the face of the mutant war. From a kink meme prompt.


Author's note: From a kinkmeme prompt. I own nothing.

Turn to Dust

"He's all yours, Charles."

Charles pressed two fingers to his temple, thoughts racing down paths he'd once known as well as any. He didn't know exactly how Erik controlled his powers, but he didn't need to; a single thought had Erik on his feet and clearing the rubble away, freeing Charles. Hank got an arm around him, hauling him to his feet.

Charles barely registered the wave of pain. He was thinking very quickly, trying to decide how to work this. Erik was clearly too dangerous to be left alone, but if they were seen leaving together…

"If you let them take me, I'm as good as dead," Erik said, eyes blazing in anger. "You know that."

"I know," Charles agreed, quickly forming a command and forcing it into Erik's mind. It wouldn't hold forever, but long enough.

"Goodbye, old friend."

"Goodbye, Erik."

Erik glanced at Raven and then ascended, gliding out of the stadium. Charles watched as Raven studied them for a long moment before turning away, limping out through the sole remaining entrance.

"Are you sure you should let them go?" Hank asked.

"Yes. I have hope for them. There's going to be a time, Hank, when we are all together."

The Secret Service descended on them then, taking Charles from Hank. They were surprisingly gentle about it, letting them sit beside each other as someone looked briefly at the gash on his head and checked for other injuries, but they were very watchful, and every time Charles lifted his hands they tensed up.

Director McCone appeared from somewhere, standing over them with a frown. "Xavier."

"Director McCone," Charles answered. He didn't have to fake his tiredness; it had been a long day and he'd pushed barely-controlled powers to their limits.

"Should have known this had something to do with you."

"The government have called you in as their expert, have they?" Charles spread his hands, aware that four Secret Service agents were going for their weapons. "Have at, then."

"Your sister just saved the president from the man who was your best friend and then threatened Bolivar Trask for a while before walking away, so you'll forgive me if we're a little confused."

"Bolivar Trask was kidnapping and experimenting on mutants." Raven's mind was practically screaming it as she fought to make her decision; Charles would never forget those images. "Killing them, torturing them. Because they were mutants, less than human. He wanted a war, to bring -" His mouth twisted. "Real humans together."

McCone stared at him. "Can you prove this?"

"I can tell you where the proof is, if you keep him and his man from contacting anyone. He'll want it destroyed."

"He was trying to sell the Sentinel tech to the Koreans," Hank added abruptly. "In Paris, just before the Accords."

"Was he." McCone's eyes narrowed. "Thank you, Dr McCoy. Professor Xavier, I need that information."

"Professor Xavier needs to rest," Hank said firmly. "I'm his physician," he added when McCone started to protest. "He's already coming off a long term medication, and now he has a concussion…"

"I do not…" Charles started, and Hank went right on over him.

"And he needs to rest. So once he's given you this information and our contact details, we're leaving."

McCone considered him for a long moment before snorting. "Your Beast's got spine, Xavier."

"Yes, he does rather," Charles agreed, showing absolutely no surprise at Hank's actions.

"I'll arrange it. Now, please. The faster we can get at this proof, the better."

* * *

McCone's people returned them to the mansion but made no attempt to enter. It was just as well; Erik met them in the front hall, furious. "What the hell have you done?"

"I haven't _done_ anything," Charles lied blithely, locking Erik's abilities away with a thought and wheeling around him to the office.

"What are you doing here?" Hank demanded.

"That's a very good question," Erik snarled, following Charles to the office. "Believe me, I'd rather be anywhere else."

"Then why aren't you?" Hank's overdose of serum hadn't started to wear off yet, but he was still facing Erik down toe to toe.

"I would, except that I _can't leave._"

"What?" Hank said blankly.

"I'm sure our dear friend Charles knows something about that."

Charles glanced up from where he was contemplating the whiskey. "I needed to make sure you didn't go anywhere before we got back, Erik."

"Why?"

"What?"

Hank and Erik overlapped. Charles waited patiently until they both fell silent.

"Hank, Erik will be staying for a while…" Both started shouting again, and he shut them both up. "So get a room ready, please. You can argue with me later."

Hank tried to protest; Charles refused to let him, and eventually he turned to stomp upstairs.

Once they were alone Charles released Erik's voice, keeping careful hold of his powers. "Very well. Rant away, Erik."

Erik studied him for a long time. "What are you doing, Charles?" he asked finally.

"You would have started a war, Erik."

"That's your opinion."

"It is not…" Charles drew in a breath. "Until I deem it safe for you to be allowed amongst people, you will stay here. Where I can watch you."

Erik frowned. "You can't possibly think that will work."

Charles gestured widely. "Then go ahead and leave."

"That doesn't work over time, I know it doesn't."

"What doesn't work," Charles said precisely, "is altering the way you think. Minds form patterns and they will return to those patterns no matter what I try to do. Compulsions do not touch the way you think. This will work."

Erik lifted a hand, looking disgusted when nothing happened. "And this?"

"When I feel you can be trusted with your powers, they will be returned to you."

"When exactly did you become god of the mutant race, Charles?"

Charles shook his head. "You will lead my people to destruction, Erik."

"_Our_ people."

"That makes it worse, that you would do this to them. No," he added sharply. "I'm not arguing this tonight. Go and find Hank, and don't argue with him."

He didn't add any compulsion to it, just waiting to see what Erik would do, shuffling through useless sheets of paper on his desk. Erik watched him for a moment before turning on his heel and stalking away. He didn't go anywhere near Hank, though; instead he went down to an unused storeroom in the east wing and locked himself in.

Charles turned away and kept fiddling with the papers.

* * *

Hank never reappeared that night. Erik stayed in the storeroom. Charles didn't bother trying to make him leave, but he did make sure Erik slept deeply; the compulsion not to leave wouldn't fade for a while yet, and his powers were not accessible, but there was plenty of damage he could do. Erik had never been defenceless, powers or not.

Hank turned up to breakfast the next morning in time to help Charles; the kitchen was adapted, but they'd gotten out of the habit of keeping things low enough for him to reach. Erik was still in the storeroom, though he was awake now.

Hank was silent as they cooked and ate, and he started to leave without speaking. Charles frowned after him. "Hank?"

Hank stopped. "I wasn't sure if I was allowed to talk or not."

Charles grimaced. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't think I could fight you and him at the same time. I won't do it again."

"And the fact that you knew both of us would object didn't tell you anything?"

"Erik cannot be allowed to continue his war, Hank. He will bring Logan's future down upon us. But I will not give him to the government either. We've proved that he can't be held, not forever, and Raven proved that he can be hurt. They'll kill him." His eyes darkened as he thought of that, but he couldn't imagine it, not really. A world without Erik didn't make any sense. Even in the future, Logan's future, Erik had survived and been with Charles.

"I saw Logan's future," he said quietly. "A glimpse; a moment. There were so few of us left. And the one I trusted more than anyone, the one I knew would always be there when I needed him, was Erik."

"This is not a good way to start a friendship," Hank warned him.

"This is to keep him alive. I'll worry about the rest of it later." He pushed away from the table. "He's sulking in the first floor storeroom in the east wing. Please bring him something to eat. And when you have some time, we need to discuss what needs to be done to get the school running again."

"You're going to reopen the school with him here?"

"He's harmless."

"He's _Erik_. He's _never_ harmless."

"I have it under control," Charles said, turning away. Hank was silent as he left.

* * *

After three days, Charles got tired of it and told Hank to stop feeding Erik. It was another day and a half before he left the storeroom, slipping through the corridors during the night. Charles, of course, had been waiting for this and was in the kitchen when Erik flicked the lights on. Erik ignored him, rummaging in one of the cabinets.

"There's no food there anymore, Erik. We rearranged the kitchen so that I could reach things." Charles was careful to keep any accusation out of his voice.

Erik abandoned the cabinet without a word, searching through another.

"What is it you're looking for?"

Still no answer, and Charles sighed. "Honestly, Erik, must everything be a war with you?"

"You'll forgive me, Charles, I'm not in the habit of engaging with my captors."

"I am not your captor."

"I'll leave then, shall I?"

"You will see eventually, Erik."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll be able to see to that."

Charles turned to wheel away. "Pasta is on the left, Erik."

* * *

The reconstruction began. The bones of the building were solid, but ten years with only Hank to care for it had left it run down and minorly damaged in a lot of ways. Charles did what he could to help; mostly that involved calling in outside help for the things Hank couldn't do. The building began to take shape again.

Erik lurked around the corridors, finding the places with the least amount of work going on and staying there. He almost never came into the parts of the building Charles and Hank were using.

With the building almost ready again, Charles began using Cerebro again. Hank monitored him carefully, allowing only short attempts at first, building up to longer ones. Charles humoured him, though he knew by now exactly what he was capable of. Erik took to lurking outside Cerebro as they worked, stalking away as soon as they emerged.

When they had several locations Charles announced his intention to go and talk with them. "We'll be ready for students soon, after all," he pointed out. Erik appeared in the doorway, and Charles added, "Good. You can accompany me, Erik."

"Professor," Hank protested.

"I can't go alone, Hank. It's bring him along or leave him here alone, and I really don't want to have to confine him to his room."

"How generous of you," Erik muttered.

"I can go and meet them," Hank suggested.

"What, and leave me here with dear Charles? How daring of you."

Hank hesitated, frustrated, and Charles shook his head. "I need to meet with them, Hank."

"So you can make sure you approve of the way they think?"

"Erik, if you don't have anything constructive to say, do be quiet, there's a good chap." He threaded just enough power through the command to see it obeyed; Erik's mouth snapped shut and he glowered.

"I don't like this, Charles," Hank told him.

"Until we recruit some more staff, we don't have any choice. Erik, we'll leave at lunch time. Please be ready."

Erik left without a word and Charles sighed. "Apparently, he really couldn't think of anything constructive to say."

"This is not a good idea."

"We will be friends, he and I."

"In a future that doesn't exist anymore! A future you and I fought to stop."

"Not that part of it." Charles shook his head. "Hank, I don't want to keep fighting this same fight with you. You are my closest friend, I want you on my side. More than anyone, I need you."

"More than Erik?"

Charles' face hardened. "That is unfair."

"Unfair? You are holding him here against his will! How am I being unfair?"

"We will discuss this when I return, Hank."

Hank was suddenly thinking very hard about the chemical composition of glue, which probably meant he was trying not to let Charles see whatever he was really thinking. Charles decided to let him have his secret, for now.

"Don't worry, Hank," he said gently. "I promised I would not control you again."

"Yes, I know," Hank agreed, still thinking very intently about glue. "You're taking the car? Erik can't fly right now. I'll make sure it's ready."

* * *

Erik drove in sullen silence, following Charles' instructions to the letter and not once speaking up. Charles let it go on until they were almost at the first house; then he said sharply, "Pull over, Erik."

Erik obeyed, parking neatly and staring straight ahead. Charles watched him for a long moment before sighing. "How long are you planning on pouting?"

"How long are you planning on holding me?"

"Until I can trust you."

"Then I suppose I will pout until I can trust you."

"I can make this harder on you," Charles warned him.

"Can you? How?"

Charles sank a thought into him. So far he hadn't blocked Erik's sense of the metal around him, only his ability to manipulate it. Now, in a heartbeat, he took the sense away too.

Erik's hands tightened on the wheel and he dragged in a breath.

"Was it like this?" Charles asked curiously, dragging a mental finger over the memories without actually looking at them. "In that cell I broke you out of? Could you sense anything at all?"

"No," Erik whispered. "I couldn't sense anything at all. Charles…"

"Ten years," Charles mused. "Want to do another ten, Erik? But this time, you'll be able to touch all the metal you want, see it, smell and taste it if you want to. But it won't really be there, will it? Like me being in a world filled with people wearing your helmet…" He touched the memories again, still not looking at them, making sure Erik could feel him in there. "Do you want to do another ten years, Erik?"

"You can't - it's changing the way I think -"

"Perhaps. Do you want to risk it?"

"You'd never be able to concentrate on anything else. You'd never manage the school."

Charles smiled easily. "I am large, I contain multitudes. Holding you is not difficult. Last chance."

"I don't want to do another ten years," Erik gritted.

Charles nodded slowly. "Drive to the meeting. Be polite, be friendly. Say nice things. When it's done, I'll give you back your senses."

Erik drove.

* * *

When they returned to Westchester, Erik moved silently into the room Hank had ready for him. He showed up at meals and whenever else his presence was requested; he helped with the last few remaining jobs, handling tools with ease even without his powers. He answered Charles' questions concisely, and mostly ignored Hank.

Charles continued sending Erik to sleep every night, not wanting to risk any kind of rebellion. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep, he watched Erik's dreams; sometimes he soothed them away, sometimes he let them play out. Erik's dreams were a strange combination of memories and fears; they fascinated Charles. Though he told himself he'd never use the information, they showed him exactly how to manipulate Erik, which memories were the most devastating in what ways.

He didn't bother justifying it to himself anymore. He still told Hank it was to stop Erik's war; Hank, who increasingly avoided him, who thought loudly about chemical formulae or electrical configurations, who thought something like that could hide his thoughts from Charles. Who thought he was safe as he tried to convince himself to somehow get the serum back into Charles' system long enough to free Erik. Charles was keeping an eye on that.

He didn't lie within his own mind. He wasn't sure if it was a telepath trait, but it was remarkably hard to deceive himself, so he didn't try. His mind was inviolate, after all. He allowed himself to think the truth.

He didn't want Erik's war. That was true.

He believed Erik would bring the war on them if he was left unfettered. That was true.

There was a thrill in keeping Erik like that, muzzled and harmless. That was true too.

Charles' power could affect the most people. Raven's was the most versatile. Hank had more physical strength than anyone. Sean's power was fascinating and Alex's dangerous.

Erik was stronger than any of them, and still not at full strength for all his childhood under Shaw. Controlling that power excited Charles.

That was true too.

* * *

When the first six students arrived, Charles assigned Erik to languages and to work specifically with one of the girls, a child with the power to move earth and rock. "It's closer to your power than mine," he said when Erik scowled.

"How am I supposed to teach her with my powers bound?"

"Having your powers would make little difference, Erik," Charles said reasonably. "She doesn't control metal, after all. What she needs from you is to learn the centering techniques, how to focus and so on. I can show her that, but your experience is closer to hers."

"And the other children?"

"One is a telekinetic, one has an intrinsic understanding of languages, one can alter the colour of anything he touches. I will work with them. The other two have physical mutations and Hank will be working with them."

"How fortunate that we suit them so well."

"Yes, isn't it," Charles agreed easily.

He kept a mental ear on Erik's lessons, of course, lurking just behind his friend's eyes. He wasn't as naive as they seemed to think he was. For the first while Erik was serious and solemn, helping the girl - Rosa - to find her focus and leading all the children through the basics of foreign languages. After a while, emboldened by the apparent lack of attention. Erik began debating with Rosa as they trained. Nothing in their conversations was actually questionable, but Charles could see the plan laid out in Erik's mind, how he would gradually turn her to his way of thinking.

Erik thinking long term was so unusual that Charles was almost impressed. But he still didn't understand just how deeply Charles could see into his soul, he still wasn't paying attention to Charles' warnings.

Charles waited until Erik and Rosa were working in an isolated part of the grounds; then he slipped into Erik's mind, carefully blocking his conscious control. _Eric_, he said with a sigh, _you were doing so well._

_Are you policing my thoughts now, Charles?_ Erik shot back. Outside the bubble of their conversation, his body was still leading Rosa through their breathing exercises.

_Not your thoughts, my friend. Only your actions. I will not allow you to spread your rhetoric to my students._

_Then release me, Charles. I will not give in to this._

_We shall see._ And he cut off all input from Erik's senses.

Erik's body complained of feeling ill, apologised to Rosa for cutting their session short, walked back to the mansion and settled in Erik's room. Erik knew nothing about any of it.

Charles slipped back into his mind to plant a suggestion of _Shaw_. With literally nothing else to focus on, his mind would seize on the suggestion and replay every memory of Shaw it could find.

He released Erik just before dinner, with a 'suggestion' that he attend to ease Rosa's fears for him. Erik obeyed, but he looked pale and drawn and he was very quiet.

"Are you sure you're all right, Erik?" Hank asked quietly, glancing at his mostly untouched food.

Erik forced a smile. "Yes, of course. I'm quite well. Just a little tired, I suppose."

"Make sure you get plenty of sleep tonight," Charles told him. "Then you'll be quite well for tomorrow's classes."

"Of course," Erik repeated. "I'll go up early."

"Very wise," Charles agreed, and then turned the conversation to Hank's classes. Erik listened, and he joined in here and there, but he excused himself after a while, heading upstairs.

Charles allowed him to sleep without dreams.

* * *

Hank came to see Charles a couple of nights later. He was thinking firmly about the student evaluations he should have been working on; Charles pretended he couldn't see right through that. "How can I help you, Hank?"

Hank took a deep breath. "You can stop this - this thing, with Erik."

"Hank," Charles said tiredly.

"I understand why you started it, I think. He is dangerous. And they would kill him. But the - a couple of days ago, when he was sick, that was you, wasn't it?"

"He's trying to recruit Rosa. Probably some of the others, too."

"Then stop letting him teach them!" Hank closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. "I'm sorry. But Charles, either Erik is your friend or he's being held here. If he's being held here, stop treating him like your friend. If he's your friend, stop treating him like your prisoner."

"Which do you think he is?"

"I can't tell." Hank crouched beside the chair, watching him carefully. He'd forgotten to keep his shields up and was all but screaming his plan now. "You always want to believe the best of everyone. I admire that; I wish I could do it. I'm more of a 'fool me once' kind of guy. But some people can't, or don't want to, change. And if you keep giving them chances, you'll get burned."

"You think Erik can't? Or doesn't want to?"

"Either way, I don't think he will while you're shutting him down all the time."

Charles nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Well, I will certainly think about this, and while I'm thinking I'd like you to please take that syringe out of your pocket and put it on the desk where I can see it." Hank went very still, and Charles smiled gently. "I promised you that I would not control you again, and I won't. I would like you to prove to me that I'm making the right decision, please."

Hank stood, taking a few steps away before taking the syringe from his pocket. "I don't think I would have done it."

"I don't think you would either," Charles agreed. "Is there more of this?"

"A little. I kept some in case you needed it."

"Or needed it used on me. Get rid of it, please, Hank."

"All of it?"

"I'll leave that decision to you."

Hank nodded, turning away. At the door, he turned back to look at Charles. "You plan for us to live among humans."

"Yes, of course."

_"Dum inter homines, sumus colamus humanitatem._ Whatever he is now, he was your friend once. Don't forget that."

"That is the only reason for any of this."

* * *

Charles found himself considering Hank's words at odd moments over the next few days. Erik hadn't attempted to continue his conversion of Rosa, and he hadn't started with anyone else, though he'd planned to before Charles' intervention. His reports were delivered on time and concisely written; Rosa was gaining control more quickly than Charles had hoped. Outside class he mostly kept to himself, but he was at the least polite to everyone.

He was so different from the Erik Charles had known before Cuba he might as well be a different person.

Charles stopped interfering quite so much; he kept making sure Erik slept, and he dipped in and out to make sure nothing was going on, but apart from that he ignored him. Erik continued exactly as he had been.

Charles invited him to play chess. Erik played perfectly, but completely mechanically, watching the board the whole time and answering all Charles' questions in as few syllables as possible.

Charles invited him to lead them for Purim; two of the children were Jewish, and the others were interested. Erik quietly answered that he didn't practise any more, but he'd help set up and lead the prayers if the students wanted to. He did it, too, just as efficiently as he'd done everything else so far; taking over the kitchen to cook _hamantaschen_, talking to the students to make sure they knew what to do and patiently explaining the traditions every time he was asked. Bits of material for costumes appeared in the common rooms, and everyone seemed to be eating nuts every time Charles went past. Erik dutifully fasted the day before and read the scroll - Rosa was delighted in be in charge of the rattle, shouting loudly every time Haman's name was mentioned - but he was clearly not actually enjoying any of it, he didn't drink anything, and once Purim was over he went back to exactly what he'd been doing before.

Finally, there was only one thing left for Charles to try.

* * *

He waited until Erik and Rosa were outside again, working near the gate. He slipped into Erik's mind, careful not to let Erik know he was there, and eased the compulsion that kept Erik from trying to leave.

At first he thought Erik hadn't noticed; he continued the lesson until dinner time, when he dismissed Rosa to head back to the house. Instead of following her, though, he stood, staring towards the gate.

_What are you doing?_ he asked finally.

Charles debated answering, but eventually he said _I'm giving you a chance. You can leave, if you want. I won't be watching all the time, but sometimes, and you won't know when._ He didn't bother expanding on that; Erik knew what he meant.

_Aren't you worried I'll just go find another helmet?_ Erik sounded oddly detached from the possibility, as though they were debating a remote hypothetical.

_Yes. But if you find another helmet, Erik, you'll have to keep it on for the rest of your life, because if I find you with it off, you'll be right back here._

Erik was silent for a while, leaning against a tree and studying the gate. _You said I could leave. Does that mean I can stay?_

_Do you want to?_ Charles asked, startled. _There's a place for you here, doing just what you're doing now. As long as you remember that I will not tolerate you trying to recruit my children for your war._

_If I stay here, you will not touch my mind. Not at all, Charles._

Charles considered that for a while; Erik seemed content to wait, still leaning against his tree. _So long as you give me no reason to,_ he said finally. _That means if I hear you trying to convince Rosa or any of the others that we have an intrinsic right to rule over those poor helpless Homo Sapiens…_

He trailed off, and Erik chuckled softly. _You'll never hear me say that again,_ he promised, and Charles suppressed the impulse to immediately push deeper into his mind and find his plans. _There are some things I have to do. I'll be back for the start of term. Don't look for me._

_I won't,_ Charles promised, though he was thinking that the start of term was months away and that was a long time to be unaware of Erik. _Come back, my friend._

He slipped out of Erik's mind as he stepped through the gates and left; the absence of him was startling after so long, and he almost tried to grab him again. "He's gone," he said, gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

"Forever?" Hank asked, watching him.

"He says he'll be back for the next term."

"In September? That's a long time away."

"Yes." Charles glanced at the window. "Yes, it's a long time away."

"Are you all right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's the right thing to do," Hank offered.

"Mmm. We should decide what to do with his students."

"Charles…"

"Hank, I would like to talk about his students, please."

Hank nodded slowly. "Sure. I can teach them French, but I don't speak anything else."

"Do you speak French?"

"Enough for a beginner's class. We'll have to rearrange a bit, though, and maybe start working on advertisements. We have to get more teachers."

Charles nodded, and they discussed how to reschedule the classes and how to explain to the children and what to do with Rosa, who'd be terribly upset to find that Mr Lensherr was gone, and Charles pretended he wasn't aching to touch Erik's mind. He could do it without letting Erik know, he had enough control for that…

But he'd made a promise. And he wanted Erik to come home, and he knew he never would if he found out that Charles couldn't keep his promise for more than an hour. So he talked to Hank instead, and tried to ignore the empty spot in his mind where Erik had once lived.

* * *

The children left over the summer - eventually, Charles thought, they'd have children with nowhere to go, and they'd have to make provisions for that. This year, though, it was just him and Hank, and they took a brief break - from teaching, and from each other - before burying themselves in work for the new year. They'd received applications for teaching posts and for what Charles kept calling house matron positions, and there'd be a dozen new students along with the returning six. They discussed each child's powers and split them into rough groups with similar powers to assign to teachers. They went through the curriculum and housing, made rough plans for trips off campus and celebrations on.

Hank didn't ask after Erik. Charles wouldn't have had anything to tell him.

The semester was due to start on the fourteenth of September; Charles was expecting the new staff to start arriving on the fourth, the children on the twelfth. They planned to have everything ready by the first.

Erik arrived on the twenty eighth of August.

He was clearly exhausted; he arrived late that night, mumbled something incoherent when Hank let him in, and dragged himself to his room using the iron in the walls. By the time Hank followed him in he was already asleep; Hank stripped off his boots and threw a blanket over him, closing the door firmly.

Erik slept for sixteen hours and appeared downstairs in time for dinner, unshaven and tired. Neither Charles nor Hank commented, just kept offering him food, making idle small talk. When they finished, Charles asked if Erik wanted to look at the plans for the school year.

Erik seemed to be thinking about it, though maybe he just wasn't concentrating. "Can it wait until tomorrow?" he asked finally. "I don't think I'd take much in tonight."

"It can wait," Charles agreed. "I don't suppose you want to play chess then, either."

"I don't think it would be a fair game."

"It might be more fair to me than usual."

Erik smiled faintly. "I'll let you win another time, Charles. We'll look at the plans tomorrow. They'll need to be amended, anyway."

"Why?" Hank protested.

"Because there's a couple of extra children coming." He looked at Charles. "Peter Maximoff has two sisters; one twin, one rather younger. Wanda, his twin, has manifested some kind of reality warping powers, and their mother seemed relieved when I spoke of this place. She'd like to speak to you about Lorna before committing to sending her here; I didn't know if that would be possible before term starts, but she's willing to wait, Lorna's only seven."

"Manifesting?"

"It's difficult to tell with Wanda in the same house."

Charles nodded. "I will find some time to go and see her. Peter and Wanda?"

"Will be here on the thirteenth. That's correct, isn't it?"

"That's correct," Charles agreed. "And you'll teach again?"

"I will teach again." He glanced at the nearest clock. "Perhaps details can wait until tomorrow?"

"Details can wait until tomorrow. Welcome home, my friend."

* * *

Three weeks into the semester Charles joined Erik on the terrace. Ostensibly Erik was supervising the children, who were playing tag with powers, to make sure they didn't get too over enthusiastic. In practise, only half his attention was on them, and it took him several seconds to register Charles' presence. That wasn't unusual since he'd returned; he was extremely careful with the children, polite to Hank and the other teachers, and cool to Charles when he couldn't avoid him completely.

"Good evening," Charles offered.

"Good evening," Erik echoed, glancing at his watch. "They have some time still…"

"You're not late," Charles assured him. "I wanted to speak to you."

"The reports aren't due until tomorrow."

"Not the reports, either. There's nothing wrong."

"Oh?" Erik raised an eyebrow, focusing on the students.

Charles took a deep breath. "I came to apologise, if you'll hear it. And to make you a promise, if you'll accept it."

"Did you," Erik said, voice completely neutral.

"I was hurt, and angry, and in withdrawal, and I missed Raven terribly. I missed you terribly. But none of that excuses what I did. I truly believed you were a danger to mutantkind, but that does not excuse it either. I am deeply ashamed, and I promise, I will never do it again, not to anyone."

"You shouldn't."

"I won't."

"No. I mean you shouldn't discard it. It's very…" He smiled mirthlessly, still watching the students. "Effective. You should keep it in your arsenal."

"It will never be worth the price."

"Hmm. Is that your promise, then? That you won't do to some other poor soul what you'd done to me?"

"No, Erik," Charles said gently. "My promise is that I will not do it to you."

Erik went very still. Charles followed his gaze towards the children.

"I can't promise I will never read your mind again, anymore than you could promise not to affect copper ever again. But unless you are a clear danger to someone who is not threatening you, I will not intervene. You have my word, if it means anything. And if you tell me someone is a danger, I will listen to your reasons."

"Did you spend a lot of time working out my conditions?" Erik asked. His voice was tight and rough.

"It took some time," Charles admitted.

"So what now? Are you expecting forgiveness? Redemption?"

"Expecting it, no. Hoping for it, yes. But that is entirely in your hands."

"How generous of you. Remind me why you didn't leave me to the government? In ten years they could not take what you took from me."

"You asked me not to. You were afraid for your life, and you were right. They would have killed you, I saw it in their minds."

"So instead of allowing them to kill me, you decided you'd try."

"It was never my intention to harm you," Charles said firmly. "At my lowest I didn't want to hurt you. I only wanted you to believe as I believe, and I allowed my frustrations to overcome me. It will never happen again; I will never let it."

Erik was silent for a long time, and finally Charles said quietly, "Why are you here, Erik?"

"To keep you out of my mind," he answered immediately.

"I see," Charles murmured. "Not because of the children? I know Rosa was very happy to see you again."

"Because being here and retaining my mind seemed rather better than leaving and running the risk of you taking me again."

"Well. In that case, I rescind your conditions. You may leave as you wish; I will not search for you. Not unless we receive absolute proof that you have hurt anyone. Wear your helmet or not, take up your crusade or start a new one, do as you feel fit. I will not act as I have. But know that there is a place for you here."

"Under your rules."

"Are my rules so very draconian? I ask that you not kill anyone. Not hurt anyone who isn't threatening you. Don't lead angry mobs to our doorstep, and don't teach the children that absolutely every human wants them dead no questions asked."

"Clashes with your teachings that every human wants to offer them tea and cake?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Charles said dryly. "Orange juice, at best, the children are too young to really appreciate good tea."

"Some people will want to kill them."

"Some people want to kill. So teach the children proportionate response. If a mutant is harmed, we don't burn the town to the ground; that doesn't help anyone. Teach them to defend themselves."

"We shouldn't have to hide."

"We shouldn't," Charles agreed softly. "And one day, we won't. If you work with me, I believe we will see that day."

Erik stood abruptly, taking a couple of steps forward. "Peter! Time's up, everyone inside!" Turning back to Charles, he told him, "I feel this argument might go on for some time, and I should make sure the children get back inside. Another time? We should have plenty of chances, after all."

Charles smiled broadly. "Another time, my friend. Another time."

_Dum inter homines, sumus colamus humanitatem; While we are among humans, let us be humane._

_This is the sound of all of us,_  
_Singing of love and the will to trust._  
_Leave the rest behind, it'll turn to dust..._  
_This is the sound of all of us. _


End file.
